Some one picked up the horn that the girl had let fall.
"Let him be," I said.

"It could but have been a chance, and he is lucky not to have been kicked.

See, he does squint most amazingly." "Ay," growled the huntsman, "so he does; but I never knew a cross-eyed man before who had any trouble in walking straight enough." The thrall slunk away among his fellows.

He was a round-shouldered man with hay-coloured hair and a stubby beard of the same, and he rubbed his shoulders with his elbows lifted as he went.

Then the steward gave me a fresh horn, and we said farewell to our host and hostess, and Erpwald and I went our way.
"I thought that the horse would have knocked the Welsh girl over," he said presently.